


Travesty

by Specificity



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, fake dating au, flufftastic, ridiculous plots that make no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 05:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15211955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Specificity/pseuds/Specificity
Summary: “Cut!”All the quiet of the film set evaporates as everyone springs into action. Shouts and footfalls, rustling and scraping. The chaos is overwhelming after so much calm.“Well, that’s another scene down,” Robert declares, “I think we did all right, don’t you?”Fake dating AU.





	Travesty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for howellobrien@tumblr for the Robron Fandom Appreciation Week.

“Cut!”

All the quiet of the film set evaporates as everyone springs into action. Shouts and footfalls, rustling and scraping. The chaos is overwhelming after so much calm.

“Well, that’s another scene down,” Robert declares, “I think we did all right, don’t you?”

Aaron doesn’t feel as if it’s a question that requires an answer, at least not one that’s welcome, which is to say any. Robert Sugden, like he, Aaron Dingle, is a nobody in the world of film and television, but at least he has some experience with it all. Aaron, well, he’s been thrown in at the deep-end, and it’s taking some time to adjust to it. Still, Robert’s a good mentor, if that’s what it can be called, and Aaron’s a quick learner when it comes to survival.

“You don’t say much, do you?” Aaron shrugs a shoulder. “No need to go out of your way to prove me right.”

Robert is confident, loud, and opinionated. Aaron can be all of those things, too, or at least he could once upon a time. These days, all he wants is to be able to do the one thing he loves the most: pretending to be someone else while getting paid for the pleasure and making a name for himself to secure a future for himself so he can continue to do more of the same. The rest? He doesn’t concern himself with the finer details. He has his big picture goal, which is difficult enough, so the last thing he needs is to be distracted by the smaller pictures along the way.

“How about we go somewhere after we wrap for the day? Do something fun to loosen you up.”

“What for?” Aaron doesn’t mean it to sound as blunt as it comes out on the execution, but all he can think about doing once he’s done for the day is preparing for the next, alone, in his hotel room. “We can’t do owt extravagant, we’ve got an early start tomorrow, remember?”

“Ah, yes, the graveyard scene at dawn. How could I forget?”

Robert is mocking him, Aaron is certain of it, but he would rather be the boring one who gets the rest he needs to perform his job than the idiot who plays it wild and ends up falling asleep on the job instead.

Aaron turns his back on Robert and steps away from him, but before he gets too far, he’s stopped in his tracks by one of the PAs from the set. He realises too late that Robert is right behind him, breath warm as it hits the back of his neck and sends shivers down his spine. Robert does love winding people up at every given opportunity, so he forces himself not to rise to it.

“There’s a meeting you’re needed to be at.” The PA at least appears to look apologetic as she gives them directions. “It’s with the director and your agents.”

“Wait, both our agents?” Robert asks, clearly as baffled as Aaron himself is. “What’s it about, do you know?”

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve been told.”

Watching the PA walk away, Aaron turns to Robert, searching for any clues as to what’s going on, but he comes up empty. The best he finds is the muttering beneath his breath about how useless the PAs are around here; he’s definitely one of those actors who demands ridiculous things purely to see the skivvies running around like headless chickens.

“Guess we should go, then. We’re not gonna find out what’s happening if we don’t.”

Aaron takes the lack of as response as an agreement, and the two of them head off set and towards where the director is stationed at the other end of the studio.

*** * ***

“You want us to what?” Robert asks, loudly, at the same time as Aaron mutters, “You what?”

“We think the two of you should be seen out and about together. We have sources willing to leak rumours of the two of you seen sneaking around. It’s the best thing for the franchise, for your careers, for the success of everyone involved. It’s the human interest we need to promote the films, and to keep the people’s interest.”

Aaron can’t help fidgeting, not entirely comfortable with the situation. He doesn’t care much for lies, and if he does this, then he’s starting the potential success of his career with a lie to all of the fans he may or may not acquire. Words are hard to find, though, and right now he’s speechless with disconnected anger.

Robert, on the other hand, sits stiffly in his chair, the colour gone from his face, which makes him appear sickly. For once, he doesn’t seem to have anything to say.

“Well, what do you say?” 

All eyes are on the two of them. Their agents are there alongside the director and all of the producers. And all of them are looking expectant in that telling way that leaves little room to argue with repercussions.

Aaron turns his head to get a better look at Robert, but he still hasn’t moved, not so much as a muscle, and he looks, now, as if he’s on the verge of emptying the contents of his stomach all over the highly polished floor. He can’t help taking it personally. Is he that repulsive that the idea of pretending to the world to be dating him is such a revolting one? A part of him hopes he does throw up; it’s the least he deserves.

“I’ll do it.” Aaron doesn’t realise he’s spoken aloud until he hears his own disconnected voice echoing around the room. Knowing that it disgusts Robert so much pushes him to want to do it, to make him pay for every irritating moment of his existence. But, on the other hand, he realises it means he’ll be tortured along the way as well. He decides he’s willing to pay that price. And he knows if he refuses, it’ll mean bad things for his career - the stories he’s heard and the things he sees are telling of that - and he’s worked so hard to get to this point. Plus, if he doesn’t, it’s not only his career on the line, it’s everyone’s if the film doesn’t make it. He doesn’t like it, he’s certainly not happy about it, but he’ll do it; it won’t be forever.

“You will?” Robert finds his voice, the words spoken softly, dripping with uncertainty, and Aaron doesn’t really know what to make of that. Robert turns to the room at large, voice growing in confidence and volume, “I mean, if it’s for the sake of the whole franchise, then of course we’ll do it.”

Aaron snorts out a laugh, which he attempts to cover up with a hand over his mouth and a fake cough. Of course Robert will pretend to do the most horrifying thing he can imagine if it’s to further his career. Aaron wonders how far that stretches, though. Would he be willing to date someone from the film for real if it meant climbing the ladder. He wouldn’t put it past him.

“Are we done?”

“We need a few signatures, but, then, yes, Mr Dingle, we’re finished here.” 

The way that all of them, the room full of vultures, seem to be more than pleased with themselves makes Aaron want to knock each and every one of them out. He knows he’s going to regret this; he’s already regretting this. It might help the franchise if it works, but if it fails, then it might also mean an end to the whole thing.

Taking the offered pen, Aaron signs several documents - disclaimers, disclosures, agreements - and then pushes back his chair, thrusts himself off the seat, and leaves the room without looking back. He’s not one for schmoozing with the big wigs, so he’ll leave that to Robert; he prefers to climb the ladder using his talent for acting rather than by selling his soul.

*** * ***

“Is it true?”

 _Flash_.

“Are you really dating?”

_Flash_.

“Is Robert your boyfriend?”

_Flash_.

“Aaron, can you confirm—”

_Flash_.

Leaving the hotel the next morning, Aaron discovers how fast word can travel, but he suspects that was the point. Spread the rumours. Plant the seed. Give them a show. But he still isn’t sure what putting on a show entails, and that’s what concerns him. How much time will he have to spend with Robert off set? Will he be able to act as if he actually likes him to back up the rumours? How long will they need to perform to the idea? How far does it need to go? And, of course, what on earth is he going to tell his friends and family? No one will believe him.

With white blobs swimming around in his vision, Aaron allows the security team to help guide him to the car that waits for him, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb in. He hates ignoring the fans, even on the worst of days he manages a smile or a nod, a signature or a photo, but not today. Today he feels like ignoring the whole world. If only he could get away with it.

He uses the time it takes to arrive at the studio to catch his breath, closing his eyes as he leans his head right back over the seat. After tossing and turning all night, Aaron feels exhausted before the day has even started, and it’s going to be a long one.

Reaching the studio is a blur of sound and colour. He zips his jacket all the way to the top and pulls the hood right up around his face, donning a pair of shades he finds in the pocket. It offers some distance from the chaos around him, shielding him from reality. But more demands about the rumours follow him, as does more flashing, which causes him to stumble a little between the car and the entrance, lingering in his vision like white clouds with a too-bright sun trying desperately to force its way through them. 

Wardrobe comes next, followed shortly by hair and make-up, and off he goes again, back on the road to the outdoor location. It’s still dark out, the winter season making it feel earlier than it is, but it’s exactly what the scene requires.

*** * ***

It’s dark, cold, and threatening rain. The atmosphere is a tired and dreary one, the cast and crew alike exhausted from their relentless filming schedule and after hours activities. It was bound to catch up to them sooner or later.

“You made it, then,” Robert says, slowly approaching until he’s standing by his side. “I was beginning to think you’d done a runner.” He doesn’t quite manage the usual tone of banter, the light teasing in jest; it sounds too sharp without it.

“Isn’t that more your style than mine?”

Robert’s face falls.

Aaron’s frown deepens.

It’s no secret that Robert ran away from home at a young age, though not why. If his current expression is anything to go by, Aaron should feel ashamed of himself for going there. He does. But he doesn’t doubt that Robert will find something to irritate him with to make the guilt disappear.

“What did you say?”

Confused, Aaron looks at Robert, and he sees the darkness beneath his eyes through the layers of make-up. “I didn’t say owt. If you’re hearing voices, tell a doctor.”

“That’s not what I meant, idiot. I meant, what did you say to the press.”

“Oh. Easy. Nothing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah, no, I’ve not said anything, either.”

Aaron’s not entirely sure if they were even supposed to, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to make the first move in the charade.

“Positions, please. Robert, if you could crouch before the graveside. And, Aaron, stand further back, by the bench. That’s perfect!”

And the cameras role from every angle.

*** * ***

“It’s your funeral, mate.”

Aaron takes a drink from his bottle of beer; Robert takes a sip from his glass of wine. Both of them are aware of cameras on them, but they don’t try to locate them. The restaurant is an endless window for all the world to see in, so it’s hardly a secret that they’re both there, sitting across a small, intimate table from one another.

“Okay, go.”

“All right,” Aaron says, picking at the label on the bottle as he ponders the choices, “Why did you leave home so young?”

“Why did you?”

“Because I thought myself an hard man, but it turned out that life wasn’t for me.” It’s true enough, anyway. “But that’s not how this works, remember? One of us asks a question, the other answers. It’s called a conversation.”

Robert makes a sarcastic expression, as if he means to laugh, but with a mocking edge. He remains silent, though, and just as Aaron thinks he’s never going to answer, he opens his mouth to speak. 

“My dad. I left because of my dad.”

Aaron considers pushing further, but he knows if it were the other way around, he wouldn’t take to that well. For someone as bold as Robert, who gets off on any and all attention, Aaron realises how little he actually offers up of himself. If someone asks him a question, he’ll answer it, blunt, but frank, if not at length. But, Robert? Robert avoids the question, he deflects them like a shield throwing off bullets, and he uses his charming side to distract. He never knew how much he paid attention until now.

“Fair enough. Your go, then.”

Robert takes another sip of wine, pretentiously swirling it around the glass as he considers the possibilities.

“Who did you lose your virginity to?”

Aaron snorts. “Bold of you to assume I’ve lost it.” But after another swallow of beer, he shrugs, and says, “A lass called Victoria.” He forgets to mention the coincidence of her last name being Sugden, too.

“That’s my sister’s name.”

Aaron freezes, looking across the short distance of the table.

“Yeah? Then it’s probably not the best time to mention she’s a Sugden, too, eh?”

Somehow, he feels lighter for the confession. He doesn’t try to laugh it off. And Robert coughs, splutters, and dabs the drop of wine with a napkin as it escapes his mouth.

“You lost your virginity to _my sister_?”

“It’s not like I knew she was your sister, mate. Should’ve stuck around home long enough to stop it happening.”

“You and Vic.” Robert seems to be broken. “Vic with you.”

Aaron shrugs. “Take it up with her.” But as he watches the process of Robert’s expression, he finds himself grinning, a slow, easy thing that stretches at the corners of his mouth. He ignores the flashes from across the street.

*** * ***

Laughter. It’s strange. Aaron is laughing. It’s not the light, half-hearted kind from something vaguely amusing. It’s the full body, lungs aching, deep coughing kind that sees him doubling over. He remembers it from a time long since gone, but he welcomes it back like a childhood friend who moved away and returned home.

“Come on, guys,” shouts the director, trying hard to keep a straight face, “we need to wrap this up.”

It takes another five minutes to calm the laughter down, and another ten to look presentable enough to re-take the scene.

By the end of it, Aaron finds himself exhausted, but it’s the good kind of exhausted; the kind that comes from working hard and enjoying every moment between. The whole cast are really gelling, and it shines through in each passing scene. Most films are shot out of order, but the director, at least, had the clever idea to do this one in order, showing the relationships growing on-screen as they blossom off-screen.

“Pint?” Robert asks, as one of them tends to do once they’re wrapped for the day. If one of them is filming long after the other, they’ve formed the habit of waiting behind for them, watching from the side-lines.

“Nah, not tonight. But maybe tomorrow?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve had a better offer.”

“Well, it wouldn’t take much, would it?” Aaron smirks, which takes on a mischievous twist as Robert pouts like the sulky man-child that he is. Their relationship has gone from hateful glares and prickly jibes, to casual banter and easy laughter. It’s not what anyone expected. “But, nah, I’m just knackered. I don’t really fancy doing owt that’s not ordering takeaway, falling onto a sofa, and staying there until I pass out.”

“That works out better all around.”

“Eh?”

“I hate paying for takeaway, and you need someone to shove you towards the bedroom.” Aaron raises an eyebrow, so Robert adds, “Not like that, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Aaron repeats, shaking his head. But it’s not obvious, and that’s becoming a problem. He glances at Robert while he’s bidding another cast member goodnight, quickly looking away again before he turns back. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to have someone turn the telly off so it doesn’t wake me in the middle of the night.”

“You’re really selling this to me.”

“It was your idea.”

“That’s not how I remember it…” 

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as the two of them head towards their trailers to change, and ignores the fact that all eyes are on them as they go.

*** * ***

Aaron wakes to the low winter sun shining through the hotel window. He groans, mouth automatically trying to moisten itself, and neck cracking as he slowly, painfully, straightens himself up.

Robert.

Beside him on the sofa, right where he left him the night before, Robert lies slouched in the seat, long legs sprawled out in front of him and neck stretching over the back of the sofa, mouth slightly parted as he emits tiny snores. There’s something soft and vulnerable in the face of this version of him. Aaron finds himself smiling, but it soon falters. His heart beats faster, sleep-dry hands growing clammy.

He can’t really deny it to himself anymore, as dangerous as it is to accept. He feels things. He likes Robert, now, has learnt to roll with his sense of humour, which can be dryer than his own at times and as sassy at others; other times it’s like an alien life-form that flies over his head before he can identify it. He’s grown to like his ridiculous lack of style, the endless shirts that give him the urge to set fire to them. And he’s learnt a lot about him. 

He can cook. He’s a lightweight. He hates mornings. He hates the gym even more. He snores little cute snores, but if nudged he’ll snore loudly like there’s an herd of elephants passing through a thunderstorm. He’s got a brother and a sister. There were once other siblings, but they left him through death or abandonment - the details were vague, delivered like a badly told joke, and never mentioned again. His dad’s a dick. He’s had three mums: birth mum, adoptive mum, and step-mum. They’re either dead or dead to him, but his adoptive mum is the only person he’s ever truly loved other than his little sister. 

It takes a week of persuasion, but eventually Aaron convinces Robert to get in touch with Victoria, tells him how much she always claimed to miss her big brother. It’s the truth. She often mentioned him, in passing, voice breaking at the mere mention, and, like her big brother, she swept the topic aside and never mentioned it again.

Basically, Robert Sugden is more than the confident, arrogant prick he sells to the world. He’s been hurt badly and scarred deeply, and he’s learnt a lot of bad habits in order to protect himself. Aaron feels bad for judging him before really taking the time to get to know him, but he feels worse for the swooping sensation in his stomach the longer he thinks about him.

Another thing he’s learning about Robert is that he weighs a ton when he’s unconscious and half leaning against his side, and it’s making it difficult to wriggle himself free.

“Ugh, close the curtains, why don’t you?” Robert groans, voice rough from sleep, deeper than his awake voice, and somehow Aaron finds it to be endearing. It’s not good.

“I would, but I’m having trouble moving from under the giraffe that’s sprawled itself out on me in the night.”

Robert stiffens as soon as Aaron speaks, and Aaron realises why: he’s awake enough to realise where he is.

“Sorry,” Robert mutters, retrieving his limbs, and shuffling right to the other end of the sofa. “Coffee?”

“Make some. Bagsy first shower.”

“Ugh, who says bagsy anymore?”

“Me.”

Grinning, Aaron leaves Robert to his life crisis, and stands beneath the warm spray long enough for the muscles in his neck to slacken off.

*** * ***

“There he is!”

Aaron and Robert, fresh from the set, both turn towards the booming voice.

“Vic!” Aaron beams. “Victoria?” Robert panics.

“Come here, you,” Victoria says, throwing her arms around Aaron without hesitation, and giving him a powerful squeeze for someone so small. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s not been that long, Vic,” Aaron grumbles, trying to fight his way out, but returning the hug at the same time. It doesn’t really work out.

Victoria releases Aaron and takes a step back. She looks Robert up and down, assessing, her expression unreadable. He braces himself for every outcome, slowly shuffling back inch by subtle inch.

“Robert.” She keeps looking at him. And, then, suddenly, she opens her arms wide, fingers waggling, and face shining with something once lost that’s now found. “Come on, if he can take it, so can you.”

Robert mumbles something unintelligible, but he steps forward, closing the distance, and fitting awkwardly into his sister’s arms, Victoria having to lift herself up onto tiptoe and still failing to get her arms fully around his neck.

“I’ve missed you, too, you know.” She holds on a while longer before letting go, and even then it’s hesitant, as if she’s scared she’ll never get near him again. “You could’ve called.”

“I did,” Robert admits, voice betraying his vulnerability in the moment, quieter than it’s ever been before. “I did call, Vic. I called to check in on you, to leave you messages, to arrange to meet up. I even wrote you letters, and sent Christmas and birthday cards.”

“No, you didn’t. You can’t have.” She looks torn between anger and confusion, but she’s not exploding yet, so Aaron thinks it’s going well. “I never got anything.”

“I know. But I did. You have to believe that.”

“How can I, Rob? I’ve not seen you in years, no one knew where you were, if you were okay.”

“No one cared, Vic. Dad sent me away. He protected Andy when he killed Mum, and he protected Andy by sending me away. I didn’t want to leave you.”

“That can’t be right, Rob, you must’ve got it wrong.”

“You were a kid, Vic, you knew what you were told. But, trust me, it happened.”

Victoria falls quiet, thoughtful, face twisting from one expression to another, all mixing together until she looks hurt and numb. But she’s not screaming and shouting, not telling Robert it’s all lies, though she’s not damning her father, either.

“We should go.” When Victoria looks offended, Aaron adds, “The guys need to sort out the set.”

“Oh.”

Aaron throws an arm around her shoulders, walking her through the studio and out to the trailers, Robert trailing behind.

It seems to be the right thing to do. Victoria accompanies him to his trailer, poking around while he changes, but he tries to hurry, not sure he liked the look left on Robert’s face as they parted.

*** * ***

Victoria leaves a week later with a smile on her face and a skip in her step. The reunion went as well as could be expected, better if he knows either of them, so he counts it as a success. He realises too late, of course, that it also brings his life outside of acting that bit closer to the life around acting.

“You seem happier,” Aaron says, not meaning for the words to pass his lips, but not regretting it. “Both of you seem happier. I’m glad it worked out for you.” He grins. “And it’ll take the heat off me come Christmas.”

Robert looks at him. He promised to go home for Christmas, to meet Victoria’s boyfriend and reconnect with old friends, and although neither of them mentioned their brother, it was implied. Aaron suspects Robert will try to get out of going, but he intends to make sure it happens. Victoria deserves that much.

“You’d love that.”

“I would. She might not be my little sister, but she definitely feels like she is sometimes. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Robert gives him a look that both conveys the fact he doesn’t want to know what he’s been missing, and that he’s a little envious that he’s missed it while Aaron enjoyed it.

“If you two are quite finished, we’ve got a scene to do.” One of the producers. “Chop, chop!”

Both of them get into position.

“And, action!”

*** * ***

“You wanna bet?” Louis, Aaron’s character, asks Harry, Robert’s character.

“I only bet on things I know I can win.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Aaron feels Robert’s wet and warm breath against his cheek as the scene unfolds, spine tingling as their bodies drawing closer and closer together, their faces not far behind.

“How do you know you can’t win this one?”

“It doesn’t make sense for me to win.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not good enough.”

Louis takes in the confession, but he shakes his head, hand reaching up to brush against Harry’s cheek.

“You don’t really believe that. Do you?”

Harry doesn’t respond.

“If anyone’s not good enough here, it’s me.”

“No, that’s not—” 

Robert’s line is cut off in exactly the right place, perfectly timed, but the surprise is genuine. The press of Aaron’s lips against his own forces his eyes to open wide and his body to stiffen, but both quickly melt into the kiss the longer it goes on, Aaron - Louis - allowing him - Harry - time to recover enough to enjoy it.

The thing is, the kiss is supposed to be a soft, gentle thing, and it is, to begin with, but it quickly becomes heated, purposeful, as Harry and Louis slip away leaving Robert and Aaron behind in their wake.

Throats are cleared. Wolf-whistles pierce the air. Claps and cheers. Moans and groans. But it takes the director to shout out, “Cut! Timeout. Re-take in ten!”, for them to slow to a stop and break away. Both are red in the face, equal parts embarrassment and passionate efforts, but there’s no room for confusion. They both felt it. How right it was, how drawn they were, and how long passed due it is. 

“We should—” Robert cuts himself off. “That was—” And again. “I’m not sure—”

“We’ll talk about it tonight. You’re splashing out on takeaway, though, I’m broke.”

And just like that, the tension is broken, and they’re standing there, grinning at each other, like idiots.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s my turn, it’s only fair. But you’ve got to watch that boxset I was telling you about.”

“Seriously?” Robert looks serious. “You really want me to sit through that?”

“That tends to be how it works.”

“Fine. But when I fall asleep through it, you’re not allowed to wake me up.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

*** * ***

“Yes, the rumours are true.”

 _Flash_.

“Yeah, we’re really dating.”

_Flash_.

“No, Robert Sugden isn’t my boyfriend. But I am his.”

_Flash_.

“Does that confirm it for you?”

_Flash_.

It appears so, but there are further questions being thrown at them, so he leaves Robert to take care of those.

“Does that mean you’re both gay?”

_Flash_.

“No. I’m bisexual. I like both.”

_Flash_.

“How long have you been together?”

_Flash_.

“Long enough, but not as long as you’d think.”

_Flash_.

“Is it true that your family are against it?”

_Flash_.

“My sister supports me, and that’s all I need.”

_Flash_.

It seems to go on forever, but in reality it’s a short walk from the hotel to the car awaiting them for the last time. Their bags are packed, in the boot, and ready to go. And so are they.

It’s been a while since Aaron’s seen his family, and Robert’s agreed to go home with him to meet them all. He’s been warned of the size and shape of the clan, but somehow he doesn’t think it’s enough to prepare him. He claims to remember some of the Dingles from his childhood, and the two of them recently discovered that their paths have crossed before.

“The day of your brother’s wedding,” Aaron says into his mobile phone, the long ride home well under way, “Yeah, that’s the one. He was in the pub, drowning his sorrows, and I was visiting Mum, bored and cocky, with no one else to annoy.”

Robert laughs, loving the story, though at the time he struggled to find the humour in it. Aaron nudges him, grinning so wide his face hurts, but he receives the message loud and clear at the look he gets for it.

“Uh, look, Vic, we’re on our way home, and there’s something I need to sort out before I get there. But we’ll drop by as soon as we’re settled, yeah? Yeah, me too, Vic. Love you, too. Bye.”

Aaron ends the call, sliding the phone into the pocket of his jacket.

“We’re going home.” 

“Yes.”

“I’m going home.”

“Yes.”

“I met you, and you changed everything.”

“It seems so.”

“You’re not sorry?”

“Should I be?”

Robert shrugs.

“I’m not.”

Aaron, grinning from ear to ear, leans across the seat as Robert meets him in the middle, and their lips press together once, twice, three times. 

“We’re not fake dating anymore.”

“Don’t tell me it’s lost its shine already,” Aaron teases.

“It didn’t shine at all until it became real.”

“Careful, I might vomit all over your beloved shirt.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Robert lunges at him, fingers like claws as they fight their way beneath his hoodie, and tickle relentlessly. Aaron, shrieking and spasming, tries to shove him off.

“I take it back!”

Both of them re-orientate themselves into their seats, straightening themselves out, and breathing heavily as they catch their breaths. The laughter follows, and so do the kisses, but they’ve got the time to kill.


End file.
